


In The Rain You Sang

by Moondust (ASilentVoice42)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Café, F/M, Flute - Freeform, Late Night Writing, Musicians, Rain, Song - Freeform, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:32:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASilentVoice42/pseuds/Moondust
Summary: I met you in that rainy day, your voice was heaven to my ears.





	In The Rain You Sang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lotus_Dumplings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_Dumplings/gifts).



I heard you sang the song of my love, out the window of a rainy afternoon. The pitter patter marks the first sound. Then the next and the next. So bright, so cheer, so love. Ringing in my ears forever. I never see you again, the window was always close. I wonder why that day, that dank, dark, gloomy sky day that you sang.

 

"Are you composing a new song, Gilbert?" I startled, hiding the papers back when I quickly realised who was talking.

 

It doesn't help when it was Erzebet snooping around again.

 

"What? Can't a musician love his music?" She giggle and sat down next to me, hand gesture for the papers.

 

"You never hide anything, you always shouted, 'This is my masterpiece of awesomeness. Everyone shut up and let me finish it.'." She was right after all, but then again, it would be too embarrassing for anyone to know.

 

"Well? Am I right?" She was persistent, eager to know, I sigh, getting somewhere more private.

 

"Aw, Gilbert boy is embarrassed." Make fun of me with that, she won't get to have my Strudel today.

The next day came in a breeze, cold and humid with dark skies. My mind travel elsewhere underneath the sea of people, my performance was done, I still have places to go before returning home. I stopped by a small coffee shop to have a drink to freshen up. I wouldn't be able to come home or anywhere wide awake now; alcohol was not an option in the middle of the day. 

 

"Hello sir, fancy a cup of coffee?" I nodded, yawning of tiredness.

 

"Triple shot of espresso, on the go."

 

"Tired day, yes?" I didn't bother to answer, eyes scanning the empty shop, seems deserted and old, not to mention cheap; it has nice furnitures though.

 

"Here often, sir?" The barista start the conversation slowly, letting the ice melt instead of breaking it.

 

"Yeah, I always have a busy day at this district." The sound of him giggling lifted the strange air that I always have between stranger alike, he's good at this, I notice.

 

"Everyone here does. Matter of fact, we always have to go orders instead of enjoying the coffee here. It's a shame though, there's performances every Saturday." Now this is interesting.

 

"What kind?" I finally got to ask, she smiled at me, giving a cup of ordered order to me.

 

"Music,the singer we invited is a talent. Her voice is heavenly." Ah, music, usually amateur performances at cafe and bars never peak my interest, but heavenly? Seems far fetched.

 

"How much?" He tap the machine, hearing the cling and coins shuffling as I handed out the money.

 

"3 Euros." He sent the change my way, smiling a giant smile, I gave a thanks and walked away,almost out the door.

 

The coffee was nothing special, the cafe was average and the furniture was okay. But a strange feeling of home smoked when I set foot in, the wood smell like my old apartment, the lights reminds me much of that little house I got by the beach. And the colours, it was like an image of my grandmother's home welcome me in. The coffee taste like that cheaply but so good taste of morning grandma used to make for me every morning. So I hang up a bit more, come a bit more, talk a bit more to the only barista here. We have a good cha, laughter and jokes here and there, but never on Saturday though. 'Come hear the music,' the kid, Alfred, said, 'It's so good, dude,'. I was skeptic, what kind of voice can moved a world known musician like me? Surely it can be a third grade kid with asthma problems, can't be a dying artist on the street. I was intrigued but still, not all convince, yet the kid still called.

 

So, I answered.

"Dude, you have got to wait for her, she is so good."

 

"Alfred, kid. You said it the third time, calm down already." The ecstatic boy jumped up and down, ready to burst any moment. Strangely, I felt a slight uneasy feeling in my stomach, like having some bad dinner, I push it down. Calming myself from nervousness.

 

"You like her or something, kid?" Alfred looked weirdly at me before letting out a short laugh, guess he's not.

 

"Top notch comedy, man! Top notch!" Feeling a bit annoyed, I slightly elbow him, making him stopped

 

The cafe was lively, with different guest and by goer, some stops for curiosity.

 

I'd come at twenty night, just in time for the music display, to my surprise, there were a lot more than the usual take out. Gentleman dressed in suits, lafis in their comfortable but fancy attire looked at each other, talking, laughing, gossiping. The cafe, strangely enough, lights up in excitement, not even the Sunday morning where all are here was this lively. Does the Alfred kid really serious about this 'heaven-filled' voice.

 

"Oh! There she is!" My eyes darted to the shaggy stage, the whole place gone silent and tension raised, everyone was excited and eager for this lady.

 

Eyes glued to the clicking of heels, I was greeted with a scene of intoxicated smell of perfume, in her twenty, dress in a short dress with blue roses clipped on her white hair, her priece baby blue eyes focus on nothing particularly. Like the first touch of a cool breeze of morning sun, I felt hypnotised by her.

 

"You're drooling." I shake myself out, there were no saliva.

 

"If you don't shut up, Imma punch your teeth out, kid." He giggled, pointing me up the stage, watching closely at the image of heaven.

 

"Hear." Was the only word left for me.

 

"I keep hearing you talk

With my eyes seems to watered

You said baby I'm sorry

But you talking to her again

And I keep looking and looking for

Another man

 

Seems like you had your way

I won't be there for you 

Cause I got myself another boy.”

 

Unknowingly, I was the first to clap as the girl finish, rightfully so, the voice sends chills to my bones, shook me to the very core. Like a lead, everyone stood up and yelled. Such a talent she was.

 

“Told you, Gil boy.”

“Hey, girl!” She was off makeup, casual attire on, face covered up in scarf. She doesn’t really look as stunning as what she had presented herself up there but more, cute.

 

“Yeah?” Her face turn at me, keeping her tired at me.

 

“I was, um, how do I say this….” She scoffed, leaving me standing. Was she getting the wrong idea.

 

“Wait, I weren’t trying to , you know, do that! But I have an offer!”

 

“I don’t care.” She kept walking , leaving me far behind, when did she get so fast?

 

“Look, we got off a wrong start, I didn’t mean that but I want you to be my partner composer.” It seems to get her attention, she stopped abruptly, leaving me bumming to her.

 

“And who are you to ask?” Her eyes narrowed, looking serious.

 

“Gilbert Beilschmidt, music enthusiastic and music composer, flute player.” Her eyes has a ghost of surprise, quickly hid it with professionalism.

 

“And that mean, what? I am just a quick bitch to forget after you’re done?”

 

“No, I …”

 

“Leave.” She clicked her tongue, leaving me standing back.

 

“Just wait a minute!” I ran in front, blocking her way.

 

“Please.” First.

 

“Pretty please?” She sigh, feeling exhausted from my bothersome antics.

 

“What do I have from this?” Straight to the point, now I like that

 

“100 euro, every week, in your bank account.” Bargain was normal for me, I just hope this would be reasonable.

 

“Deal.”I let out a sound of relief before focus again, asking her clearly.

 

“Really?”

 

“Tomorrow, cafe, here.” Quick respond before scrolling away into the night, I shouted.

 

“Wai- Wait! What’s your name?” 

 

“Natalya, Natalya Arlovskaya.” With that, her shadow faded into nothing of the dark night.

It has been weeks since we’ve met, the progress were going nowhere, money still overflowing in her account. Same cafe, same time, yet I can’t come up with anything. Neither does she.

 

“What’s the point of continuing? Is it for a play or something?”

 

“No, it… it is just … a thing.” I muttered, she let out an exasperated sigh, tiredness, creeping up in my bones.

 

“I can’t help you if you can tell me.” One thing I learned from talking and meeting her, she had to have an idea, a spark, a ‘prompt’ they’ve said to have an idea. Most of the times, her inspiration came from her observant, her eyes of people around her. It seems that she has always had come up with these ideas for her songs. She was deep, unironically, and so smart, which were her downfall.

 

“How about we sing it out?” It was suggested, yet no valid, she doesn’t even know…

 

“Or how about I sang something and you play?” Something? So sudden?

 

“But… Which song?” She didn’t answer, but to stare out the window skies. Eyes longing.

 

“Have my heart, little dancer.

I’ll be dancing with you all night.” It was there, that mysterious girl voice, it lingers again when she sang, only a bit… off.

 

“I keep having you voice,

Sang to me to sleep,

I wondered to myself,

Will you be mine?

Push the different, we weren’t so different.

But you were so cruel.” I grab my flute, old, years has aged with it too long since it was gifted to me, but still good, I love it, I love it so much.

 

“Came to me on a summer night,

I tell, I love you, I want you

But you walk, you keep walking away.” The rain poured, letting it sound of gloominess envoy us, soon I realised, but it was so beautiful, the flute accompanied these sound so well.

 

“You’re here again, telling me you…”

 

“Love me.” She stopped, eyes surprised as I hugged her, she was so small.

 

“You’re her.”


End file.
